The eye of the screen

by Martina Vidaić


The eye of the screen

you lean over the round glass of a small table

in the living room, a lake

in which your own ugliness will drown.

you don't feel sorry. your ugliness is your principle.

 

under the glass a childhood is laid out in a circle,

a numerical sequence of layers on a cake.

the reflection is the axis of a vehicle, a ritual's object,

in each iris it guards one of each of you, blackmailing.

you raise your head

and disappear from your eyes

which automatically buttress the t.v., still live

with an afterimage of a woman in white. it could be an ad for Tampax,

if blood had not the color of blood,

which means it is not blood at all

for true blood has the color of the toilet cleaning gel.

beside, the woman is fallen in the mud, now she could get saved

only by one of those detergents

which overpower the double challenge of washing.

 

again you lean over your principle.

the ugliness comes from within and to within it returns,

weighing the bowels so it can sink easier.

the drowning in the reflection releases from the tissue,

you become flat like the t.v.,

horizontal

in relation to it.

© translated by Boris Gregorić

Oko ekrana

naginješ se nad okruglo staklo stolića

u dnevnom boravku, jezero

u kojem će te utopiti vlastita ružnoća.

nije ti žao. ružnoća je tvoj princip.

 

pod staklom je kružno poslagano djetinjstvo,

brojčani slijed katova na torti.

odraz je osovina kola, objekt rituala,

u svakoj zjenici ucjenjivački čuva po jednu tebe.

podižeš glavu

i nestaješ iz svojih očiju

koje refleksno podupru televiziju, još uvijek živu 

sliku žene u bijelom. bila bi reklama za uloške,

da krv nema boju krvi,

što znači da to i nije krv

jer prava krv ima boju wc-gela.

osim toga, žena pada u blato. sad je može spasiti

samo jedan od onih deterdženata

koji svladavaju dvostruke izazove pranja.

 

opet se naginješ nad svoj princip.

ružnoća dolazi iznutra i unutra se vraća,

oteža utrobu da lakše potone.

utapanje u odrazu oslobađa od tkiva,

postaneš plošna kao televizija,

vodoravna

u odnosu na nju.

© Martina Vidaić